Most of the women had finished work and gone, but Rovena was still there. And with her, Pierre and Millie.
“Don’t you have homes to go to?” Laura asked.
“No.” Millie smiled.
“If Nicole calls me a sad hippie one more time,” Pierre said with feeling, “I might deck her, and then she really will sue me and Lord M would have to sack me. So I thought, better to eat here.”
“And you?” Laura looked at Rovena. “You have a new baby at home.”
“He’s OK. Agnesa went to stay with Tirana.”
Someone else was in one of the side rooms. She could hear the clink of cutlery and glasses.
And then footsteps.
“You’re back,” said a familiar and wonderful French accent.
Joanie.
“They were waiting for you at the house, but I knew you would come here first. And Cook gave us a big basket with food.” Joanie held out her arms.
All of Laura’s strong resolve melted in Joanie’s fierce hug. “I’m so sorry, so sorry,” she sobbed. “You trusted me with this job and I fucked up.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Joanie said. “I saw the dress. It is magnificent.”
Laura pulled away. “What magnificent? Are you talking about the VW?”
Joanie blinked at her. “V W? Like Volkswagen?”
“Vivien Westwood.” Laura could help a smile.
Millie said, “Now why didn’t I think of getting married in a Volkswagen?”
“Because,” Pierre answered. “Lord M doesn’t allow cars here.”
Laura was laughing through her tears. When there was nothing left to lose, you just had to laugh. So they all laughed, Millie, Joanie, Pierre, even Rovena.
Eventually, they took her hand, “Come on,” and pulled her into one of the side rooms.
A table had been spread with a length of yellow damask – one of the now-unwanted upholstery fabrics. On it plates and glasses were set for five people.
There was also a large basket brimming with food which Pierre started to take out and lay on the table. Freshly-baked pie, some cheeses, savoury biscuits, home-baked bread, a platter of fruit and some twenty cupcakes.
“It’s enough food for an army.” Pierre pulled out several bottles of wine, water and juice. “Shame the men didn’t stay behind; they’d have better appetites.”
“No.” Laura raised a palm to stop them. “No men.” She glanced at the ice bucket. “And no champagne, either. I have nothing to celebrate.”
“OK, OK,” Joanie assured her quickly. “No mention of men tonight. You need to relax. And the bubbly can wait for another day.”
Laura agreed.
But a little later — and a lot of wine later — as they moved on to the cupcakes, Laura couldn’t help coming back to the subject.
“I just want to know something.” She glanced around the table. “Did you all know he was married and kept it from me?”
Pierre shook her head before Laura had stopped speaking. “No, I didn’t know until today. I heard Emmett and Nicole talking about it. I think Nicole had taken one of the calls for Adam and she found out that way.”
Well, that was something. So she hadn’t been watching her, laughing at her all that time when Laura thought she was happy.
